


Karaoke Night

by disenchantedphoenix



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: Crack, M/M, a bit of both, but also kind of legit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disenchantedphoenix/pseuds/disenchantedphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot wants Kahmunrah to sing for him. Kah doesn't want to sing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karaoke Night

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanations. It just kind of happened.

 

“If you do not stop following me right this second, I swear I will have your head!”

The knight continued to trail along behind him like a little loyal, annoying puppy. “Come on, Kah, just once! It won't hurt you!”

Kahmunrah turned away, speaking haughtily. “I beg to differ.” He wanted to be alone, not to have some idiot following him through the halls. This entire night had been a disaster.

Someone had managed to procure alcohol, though he wasn't sure who. Everyone had taken full advantage of it, and now the place had gone to hell. Everyone, that is, except for Kahmunrah. He didn't drink, detesting the way it played with his senses and made him lose focus. But that didn't seem to be a problem for Sir Lancelot, because the man was happily stumbling after him, his armor clattering along the way.

“No, it will not hurt you,” the knight continued to persist. “It's just for fun; stop being so uptight.”

“ _You_ should stop being so insolent,” he growled back.

Originally, he'd been at the party, if only to serve as the one person who still had clear judgment. It had been fun, at first, to watch everyone make fools of themselves, (perfect opportunities for blackmail, after all.) but watching his brother paw at that American night guard had proved to be too much. Then, someone had suggested karaoke of all things, prompting Lancelot to pull him up in front of everyone and shove a microphone into his hand. Needless to say, he'd stormed off. But apparently, this man could not take no for an answer.

“One song,” Lancelot persisted, struggling not to trip over his own feet. “One liiiiittttle song. Just for me.”

“I've told you no, now go away.”

“Is this because of your voice?”

Kahmunrah spun to face him. “How dare you assume things!”

“So it _is_ about your voice,” Lancelot answered with a smug look. He leaned against the nearest wall, swaying just a bit. “A small lisp is nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Kahmunrah replied, “It is when people don't take you seriously.”

“Everyone here takes you seriously.” At Kahmunrah's dubious look, Lancelot folded some. “Okay, some of us take you seriously.”

Silence.

Lance held out his hands, palms up, in a pleading gesture. “I take you seriously?”

“Perhaps now you understand why I don't bother to be friendly. I'm a joke.” He continued walking, although he was somewhat relieved to hear Lancelot's footsteps continue to follow. He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't want to be completely alone. It felt good to be able to talk about this. “Imagine trying to run a kingdom where everyone looks down on you.”

Lancelot gave a humorless laugh. “I can't say I know anything about being king, but I was definitely the joke of the Round Table.”

Kahmunrah stopped, turning to face the knight. The confession surprised him. “You were?”

“Oh, yes.” Lancelot stumbled, falling against Kahmunrah's chest with a small grunt. “They used to play horrible jokes on me. It was quite cruel, really.”

“I... I wasn't aware of that.” Kahmunrah attempted to push the knight away, but found that Lancelot was now clutching him tightly. He looked close to tears.

“Why would they do that, Kah? What did I ever do to them?”

Oh, gods. Not an emotional drunk. Kahmunrah patted his head awkwardly, trying to avoid any hysterics. “It's alright, just... just calm down.”

Tears began rolling down Lance's face. “They were so mean to me. So mean.” He began to sob into Kahmunrah's tunic.

“Okay, okay, if I sing for you will you promise to stop crying?” At this point, Kahmunrah would have done anything to get out of this situation. He was desperate.

Lancelot nodded, so Kah began to hesitantly sing. It was nothing special really, just some song that was played too often on the radio, enough so that he'd memorized the lyrics. There were some points where his lisp was very pronounced, and he cringed inwardly, but Lance didn't seem to mind. In fact, he had stopped crying, and a smile was spreading across his face. A suspicious looking smile.

Kahmunrah suddenly stopped singing, thumping Lance on the head and pushing him away. “You sneaky little...”

Lancelot laughed. “I did what I had to do.”

“So I suppose you made that all up then, just to trick me into singing?” Kahmunrah huffed. “The Knights of the Round Table probably worshiped you.”

“No,” Lancelot replied seriously. “They honestly weren't very nice.” But then he smiled again. “Come back and join us. Please?”

Kahmunrah gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. But I'm not singing for everyone.”

“Nope,” Lance grinned. “You only sing for me, right?”

Allowing himself to be pulled toward the party, Kahmunrah rolled his eyes. “Only for you.”

 


End file.
